What Lies Beneath
by gone-phishing
Summary: It's been 2 years since the 'end' of the Winter War. While the humans remain oblivious, Aizen's reign of terror over Soul Society has only truly begun. 'Return with the ex-substitue shinigami's head or face severe punishment, do I make my clear Kuchiki'
1. An Altered Ending

**AUTHORS NOTE: Okay, this is yet ANOTHER plot bunny that has been bugging me lately. **

**Basically, I'm slightly frustrated at Bleach currently and here's why. Surely all the shinigami didn't just disappear from the face of the earth for 2 years? I mean, I'm one of those eccentric people who can't rest until I have solved all the possible questions in an instance. I for one, wrote this because I really am curious to find out just what has been happening in Soul Society during the time skip. **

**Anyway, if you couldn't already tell, MANY things in this are different from the cannon, so excuse me on that, but I will explain the few changes I made to the original plotline.**

**Thanks for readin' and leave me a review if you can, because I'm curious to know if I should bother to continue with this idea.**

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><p>PROLOGUE<p>

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><p><em>Block.<em>

He tensed his muscles as he steadied his sword in front of him, blocking the half hearted attack from the hollow. He clenched his jaw as he swung his sword once more; managing to knock back the huge hollow currently pestering him, as well as sending it into a daze. He narrowed his amber eyes into predatory slits, glaring at the hollow, as if somehow placing the blame for all his current dilemmas on the mindless beast it was.

His dilemmas?

Well, for starters, this was the first time he had fought, or even seen a hollow in almost 17 months... Usually, he would use hollows as an effective method of releasing his frustrations, and therein lies the first dilemma. He had been pounding on this hollow for a good half hour, purposely not finishing it off in the hopes that the more he fought, the more it would relieve his pent up emotions, currently at the boiling point.

Sadly, so far the fight had only riled him up further, mainly because his usual method of relief wasn't working in the slightest.

And the worst part?

It was that even in simply killing a hollow, he could feel the changes. It wasn't the same as it used to be... his sword didn't feel the same, though it looked similar, it could never match the sensation of holding Zangestu. Even though he once again could feel the reishi around him, and sense his old friends' reitsu, nothing felt the same as it did before. If was blurry, hazy, as if something was constantly clouding his senses.

He was brought back to reality as the hollow charged at him, its two-toed feet crushing and cracking the concrete as is hurled itself towards what it deemed, 'dinner'.

_Parry._

He lunged at the hollow, as it swung its clawed arm towards his face, resulting in an echoing clang as both weapons came to a halt as they crashed together. The force behind his once more knocked the hollow back a good 20 feet as it skid across the ground, struggling to regain its footing. A deep gash had formed on its right shoulder, purely from the supposed human's skyrocketing reitsu. Its skin began the bubble and writhe around the wound as it soon liquefied and melded together, sealing the otherwise dangerous cut.

_Instant regeneration..._

He mused silently, watching the creature before him. Just a few times had he seen that particular ability in action. Only once had he seen that particular ability used to its full capability, and that was in his fight with Ulquiorra almost 2 years ago. He quickly reeled his thoughts in, immediately stopping himself from reminiscing about the past. That was dangerous territory that he hadn't dared to tread in the past few years. The more he remembered, the more he felt and the more he felt, the more he hurt. Just like the past two years, he decided it was simply easier to feel numb. He really didn't want to open his heart again, after unconsciously doing it all that time ago.

Growling, he lunged towards the hollow thrusting his sword towards its chest in a simple cutting motion without much force behind it. The hollow managed to dodge, not without accidently catching its shoulder on the glinting blade, causing the newly healed flesh to rip open once more.

The hollow snarled, raising its claws menacingly flexing them to indicate it was getting ready to strike. It charged once more, not bothering to change its attack pattern or direction, subsequently squiring itself on the blade of his new sword.

To his slight disappointment, the outlines of the hollows shoulders and arms began to disintegrate, until the whole body followed in suit- including the mask.

Swinging the sword over his shoulder so it lay comfortably resting in the junction between his neck and shoulder, he began to slow trek home as he allowed his mind to drown in memories of the past. He now had enough reitsu to see spirits...joy.

He should be jumping up and down in glee, or at least walking in stride as if he has a purpose in life, instead of his current uncaring slouch. He would have to say, that this was the worst part of the whole '_ordeal'_ if you'd like.

He was MEANT to be happy after his powers returned, because that's what he was missing the whole time, right?

Wrong.

He knew deeper down that he was hurt by the fact that not once did any of his so-called '_friends'_ from Soul-Society cared enough to visit his sorry ass. Honestly, one visit from his old partner and a few of her kicks to the face would have saved him from the emptiness that he tried to vainly banish that was rapidly invading his soul. Although he could put together the resolve to pull on a mask in front of others, anyone who could see beneath it would be easily able to tell how NOT-okay he was.

But no, not once did anyone deliver those kicks to the face he so desperately needed. Instead he received pity that he hated, and sympathy that he didn't deserve.

He scowled deeper as he now was only a few blocks from his house.

Why would soul society even send people to check up on him, now that he had lost his powers and was no longer '_useful_' in their eyes. Why in the hell would the people he considered '_friends_' even bother to visit him, now that he wasn't a pawn in their god damn game of chess?

He growled lightly to himself at the direction his current train of thoughts was currently heading. This was another reason why he attempted to avoid thinking about the past. It brought up a feeling of bitterness and betrayal that he couldn't even begin to comprehend, and the worst part was no matter how hard he tried not to feel that way, it was impossible.

He glanced up and gazed at the dying sunset as the Kurosaki Clinic came into view, peering over the horizon. He truthfully wondered what would happen now. Would Soul Society come barrelling back into his life just because he regained his powers? Would they try to once again, use him for all he was worth then abandon him to fend for himself?

He approached the front door cautiously, all too aware that his father's attacks had tripled recently, and that there was a 40% chance when he opened a door, that he would be '_tested_'. He aligned himself carefully, so that he was standing a good few meters back while holding the keys out preparing to unlock the door. He leant forward and bent over slightly in preparation as he placed the key in the lock. He honestly couldn't say he was surprised when half a second later, a white blur crashed through the door, barrelling into the street, only just clipping his head seeing as the tangerine-haired boy had the courtesy to duck in advance.

He casually walked into the house, as if a 100 year old plus ex-shinigami captain didn't just try to tackle him to the ground in what he dubbed was a '_Test of manliness'_.

His scowl deepened as he realized both his siblings had escaped the Looney bin known as his house for the night. He knew for a fact that Karin had soccer practice, and then a gamer later and that Yuzu was probably still baking. She had found there was an extra-curricular cooking class that she could participate in, in the afternoons which inevitably left the carrot-top to come home to an empty house, excluding goat-face of course.

He heard the shuffling of feet behind him, quickly recognising who's footsteps they belonged to, before leaning to the left, narrowly dodging another attempted flying kick to the face. With a resounding crash, his so-called father barrelled straight into the kitchen, causing many of the pots to fall to the floor clattering loudly as they went.

"Oh-ho my son, I have nothing left to teach you!" he claimed like always, pointing to his chest while puffing it out proudly so that his ridiculous goat-beard stood out all the more.

"What the hell, are you tryin' to kill me?" the boy responded, pointing accusingly at the elder Kurosaki. It was another mandatory ritual that existed between the two males. The boy glanced over to where he father laid sprawled over the tiles, before tilting his head slightly as if in deep thought.

"You might want to clean that up before Yuzu gets home, you know how she gets with her cooking equipment." He suggested, still frowning at his seemingly unconscious father.

To the boy's utter amazement, his father didn't come up with a witty retort that involved teens, puberty and his room, or charge at him once more to try get a cheap blow, but instead sat up slowly with a surprisingly solemn look on his face. The oldest of the two brought up a topic which left the other cringing subconsciously.

"Listen, son I know you got your powers back, and there's something that I have to tell you."

Judging by the tone of the elder's voice, he is not screwing around here. Whatever he has to say is serious, and by the look currently etched onto his face, it is not an easy topic for his father either. Both the expression and the tone of voice are enough to shut-up the smart-ass retort that was currently being developed by the younger. Ichigo simply nodded his head, signalling for his father to continue with whatever he had to say, as well as signifying that he's listening.

His father started off slowly, his tone weary as if he could already tell this is going to be a tender subject for his only son.

"You might have been wondering why exactly no-one in Soul Society has visited you after you lost your powers..." the elders eyes trailed off, uncertainly darting to each corner of the room, suddenly finding them much more interesting than his sons furious expression. The younger could already tell that his father knew something more than he was letting on, more so, his best bet was that his father knew WHY soul Society hadn't bothered to visits. This, of course caused his furious expression to magnify as his reitsu flickered wildly.

As if reading his mind, the other male replied answering his unasked question.

"No, I don't know why they didn't visit, but I do know something important. Before you start pounding into me for answers, I want you to know that it was decided, not by me, but as a group that you would only be told this after you regained your powers..."

Ichigo honestly had no clue how to respond to that statement. His first reaction is to be downright pissed-off. Not only did people go behind his back, making decisions for him, but for the last 2 years he had been kept completely out of the loop. What the hell? He is about to retort, some 'colourful' words already popping up in his mind to formulate the sentences he needs to express his current frustration and anger. The eldest Kurosaki raised his hand, as if to halt the onslaught of curses that threatened to spill from his son's mouth any second.

"It happened shortly after you lost your powers. We're still not sure what happened, but no one could get in or out of Soul Society. We haven't had a single word of contact in the living world for almost 17 months, and even Urahara couldn't open a gate." He lowers his voice, to an almost deadly tone, letting the orange-haired boy know he was all business. What he is telling his son, was more information than many of his friends had access too, and was only really known in the real world by 3 others excluding himself.

"No one contacted you, because it wasn't possible. We have no idea what's happening over there, Ichigo."

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><p>One footstep, followed by another echoed throughout the darkened hall, shadows shrouding the 12 other figures in black. Unconsciously, the first figure fingered her Captain's Haori, the rough material rubbing against her calloused hands. Her right sat precariously on the hilt of her sword, prepared for any sudden movement or attack. Some of the other captains smirked at her supposed anxiousness, while others snarled in disgust. A lone, dull, violet orb gazed emotionlessly at the captain in front of her, while the others flanked around her. Slowly, she bowed to the 'leader', before stalking off to the right, beside the captain of the twelfth division, Kurostichi Mayuri. The So-Taicho, stood tall in front of the other captains, his ever present grin widening as he cast his gaze on the newly arrived 13th squad captain.<p>

"Did you feel that, Rukia-chan?" he drawled, malice dripping in his tone casing the accused to rapidly tense up , but not show any other signs of discomfort.

"Hai." She responded in the affirmative, already knowing where this conversation was heading. Her voice was colder than the frostiest tundra, and could easily make a lesser man shrink in his boots. Her one unblinking, eye clouded over further, turning the once bright amethyst to a dull gray.

"Seems your lil' friend back in the human world has regained his powers." He stated, his face morphing into a twisted grin, finding sick amusement from the given situation. The girl merely nods, not bothering to glance at the captain commander. His footsteps echoed in the room, as the small whispers from the other captains fell silent. Approaching the 13th squad's captain who stood a good foot under himself, he slowly extended his arm and placed his hand on her cheek, using his fingers to lift her chin so her lone eye would meet his crimson. Dull violet hues clashed with glinting crimson, the first showed only indifference, while the latter shone in amusement.

"'s your mission, lil' Taicho. Go and eliminate the threat, we wouldn't want_ kami _to have to get off his throne, now would we?" his melancholy voice filled the room; some snickered at his statement, while the taicho herself clenched her fists and tightened her jaw.

"Hai, we wouldn't want Aizen-sama to worry. The boy is my responsibility, I will handle him." Her monotonous voice once again rings out in the crowded hall, only a trace of bitterness lingering in the tone. No matter how much time passed, the words Aizen-sama left a horrible, putrid taste on her tongue.

"Go now, you leave in an hour, and you are return with the ex- substitute shinigami's head, or will face severe punishment. Do I make myself clear, Kuchiki?" the sick enjoyment he was finding in the conversation was all to evident, as it slowly made the Captain of the 13th's mask crack for a split second, as a disgusted grimace spread across her face.

"Hai, Ichimaru -So-Taicho."


	2. What Remains

**Author's Note: Woo, another chapter maybe?**

**Anyway, I have decided to continue this story, because well, it's fun to write. This chapter is in Rukia's pretty much view, of what Soul Society has become. **

**Just a warning, it is quite graphic.**

**Most of the chapters will have lots of thoughts, and not so much action, and for that I apologise. I am trying hard to capture the mindset of the characters, instead of flinging them into battle with each other. **

**This story will probably progress fairly slowly, but so far I am glad at how it's coming along.**

**Oh, and in answer to a review, in the actual Bleach storyline, Aizen's goal is to become the Sprit King, not the sotaicho, so that's why the position of sotaicho isn't held by him in this fic. At the beginning of the anime in the SS arc, when you first see Ichimaru open his eyes, they are red. For some reason, when I next saw him open his eyes, sometime in the arrancar arc, they were blue, which I found odd- or I may just be colour blind. **

**Anyway, thanks for reading, please leave a review if it's not too much trouble.**

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><p>The newly appointed 13th squad captain stalked from the meeting hall, head held high with feigned indifference, in a desperate attempt to cover up the horrible unease and guilt gnawing away at her fragile soul.<p>

How long had it been since she had seen the scowling carrot-top?

Did he still think about the shinigami, or had they disappeared from their place in his heart?

As soon as she felt his spiritual pressure rise, a cold sense of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach, already, foreseeing the devastating result of the fluctuation.

Why did he have to go and regain his goddamn powers, once more placing himself in the centre of attention from unwanted dangers?

Why couldn't he just be satisfied living a regular human life like he always envisioned?

She choked back a humourless chuckle.

She already knew the answer.

The few times he had complained about his duties as a shinigami, all those months ago she could easily see through his shallow complaints. Whether or not he denied it, his need to save and protect people was one of the main reasons such a thing like the powers of a shinigami fit his personality so well.

He wanted to protect.

They gave him the power to protect.

That probably was a big part of the reason why he looked so devastated after the month of unconsciousness. His other human friends may not have seen it, but the way his amber orbs dulled when they clashed with her own...it was all she could do to choke back a sob. His face twisted into something that between anguish and sorrow, and she tried vainly to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, her light hearted comment of '_don't make such a sad face, even if you can't see me, I can see you'_ only weighted on her heavily burdened spirit.

That simple statement drove home the notion of what had happened.

He had lost his powers.

He could no longer see her.

They would once again be forced to return to the worlds where they supposedly belonged.

The look on his tormented face when he said his final thank you, as she knew that he could no longer see her, ripped through her heart, and tore the remains to pieces. It was all she could do to run away from the scrutinizing eyes of his friends, so that she wouldn't break down in the middle of the street and bawl like a child. Her heart hurt more than any physical wound ever had, so her only hope was that once she opened the Senkamon, she could find somewhere in soul society to just be left alone. Little did she know at that time, that when she opened to gate to Soul Society, it would be the last one ever made.

Now, she trudged down the cobblestone streets of the once proud 'Soul Society', arms folded within her haori, her left eye glancing at the rubble and remnants of what one was, that stretched in all ways to the horizon.

Yes, from the outside of Sereti everything seemed fine, as Rukongai remained the same as it had always been. The only difference was that now, no shinigami ever graced the streets. The people in general shook it off, but those who knew better, could tell something terrible had happened.

Yes, from the outside, Sereti stood proud.

In the inside of the illusive dome, NOTHING was the same as it once was. All the buildings were either obliterated with only the rubble giving an indication that they ever existed, or only the remains of their foundations were left. The streets were permanently stained in blood that no one ever bothered to clean, because it would only take 10 hours for another helpless victim to be dragged, half dead across the stone, once again coating them in a fresh coat of crimson.

The sky remained that horrible colour of blood-red, reminding each and every surviving inhabitant of what had happened. No longer did the moon appear, nor did the sun every rise. The sky would remain the same colour for the rest of eternity, reminding the people of their failure.

If one simply gazed across the once city, now wasteland, it would be impossible to guess that it was still inhabited.

After Ichimaru-sotaicho took his 'rightful' position, he ordered for a complex system of underground tunnels to be built. No one, not even the slaves who worked for days on end knew of their purpose. It wasn't until the finishing touches were made that everyone realized just what they were.

Prisons.

A huge expanse of cells and torture chambers lay below the surface, holding hundreds of the remaining shinigami captive.

Hell, even she had once lived in the cells with others, though it didn't last long. Once in a while, a faceless figure would appear and drag one of her cellmates away, usually kicking and screaming. It wasn't until she realized she was the last one left that they came for her, giving her the same treatment as the rest.

She subconsciously fingered the jet-black eye patch that covered the area where her right eye used to be allowing a pained grimace to surface at her tormented memories. As quickly as they invaded her mind, she banished them to the darkest corners, only ever to be though about when she was in the throes of one of her endless nightmares.

She allowed her lone, amethyst orb to slide closed as long-forgotten memories of the orange-haired teen surfaced.

She wondered briefly as she strode over to the entrance to the 13th squad, whether her long lost friend was the same as he was before he left.

Was he still a giant, making her..._small _stature seem miniscule in comparison?

Did his neon orange hair still catch attention, both wanted and unwanted from everyone around him?

Did that perma-scowl still grace his lips as it did the last time she saw him?

Her train of thought briefly derailed to his social life, and to how he was doing without having to worry about hollows and Aizen.

Did he get good grades, even with missing out on all that school a mere 2 years before?

Did he still hang out with his 'gang' of Inoue, Chad, and Ishida frequently?

Did that oblivious idiot realize how much the auburn haired girl cared for his stupid ass?

For some purely selfish reason, she secretly hoped he hadn't made any progress with her last thought. Yes, ever since she was forced to separate from her scowling, orange-haired buffoon, she had come to terms with the...feelings that lingered on. The question of 'what were they' appeared in her mind more than once, each time leaving a horrible sinking feeling in its wake.

It's true though.

When they were together, their relationship remained nameless. They were friends. They could probably be considered best friends, and yet, their relationship extended past the bounds of friendship, but not daring to tread on the territory of lovers. She knew him like the back of her hand, and to a degree which not many others could fathom, and in return, he knew everything she was feeling with one good look in the eye. She had never dared to question exactly what they were to each other, in the fear of losing whatever they had. She was contented with allowing their relationship to remain nameless, in exchange for being able to hold onto it. Sadly, that unspoken rule was broken the very moment he lost his powers, and the aftermath of the war tore the two apart.

It didn't matter anymore though.

She halted her train of thought, in a desperate attempt to stop the torrent of feeling that was about to burst from her chest. She had to remember she had a mission. Yeah, that's right. There was no point reminiscing about something that could never be, especially when her mission was to 'eliminate' the centre of her thoughts. Deep down, she knew that she would never be able to beat him. Even if he didn't have his powers, something about his presence made her knees weak, and the very thought of fighting him seriously made her stomach turn. No matter how much stronger she had become, it really would make no difference against one of her only weaknesses.

_Her heart._

Growling in frustration, she lifted her arm cautiously, now standing on the outside rim of 'sereti'. Drawing the sprit particles from around her, she summoned enough energy to tear open the dimension. She only glanced briefly at the gaping void of the gargantuan, before striding inside as an air of despair set itself on her already burdened shoulders.

Inky blackness swirled in her vision, as she continued on the path towards Hueco Mundo. As soon as Aizen had taken Soul Society as his own, he put in place devices which made it possible to completely prevent contact between soul society and the world of the living, effectively stopping any slight hope for rescue. The only way to travel to the Living World now was to use Hueco Mundo as an in-between, and even then, there was only a single gateway in the whole of Hueco Mundo that had the capability to travel to the real world. And still, the only creatures that used it were lowly hollows occasionally crossing at the beck and call of Aizen, to fool those still fighting them on the other side. She had wondered briefly if everything was actually part of the 'king's' plan like he claimed. Like her whole relationship with the ex-substitute shinigami.

Even from her days in Rukongai, she loathed when people could read her thoughts, her actions, and her personality. When she was still young, she had already perfected a cold gaze that could put the Kuchiki Byakuya to shame, and yet it couldn't keep out the scowling orange-haired buffoon.

To her knowledge, he was the first to break through the carefully built walls and masks she hid behind, since Kaien's death. One can only imagine how much she broke, and fell apart on the inside when she found out that her only 'real' relationship, was apparently a well fabricated lie, created by one of the only people she could say she truly despised.

She had once pondered over whether the 'oh so great' Aizen-sama had made a miscalculation along the lines.

She was meant to befriend him.

She was meant to become his best friend.

Nowhere, did it say she had to fall for the idiot.

But of course she did.

Then again, she shared her so-called 'love' with so many people, it was hardly worth it. I mean seriously, first there was his buxom, auburn haired comrade who had been head over heels for him for quite a while now. Then there was half his school population, crushing after him, while the male half either envied or hated him for being so popular, even without his knowledge. And finally there was half of the freakin' Soul Society, that had to wipe drool off their chins after seeing him walk past them with his cocky attitude.

She could never tell whether the boy was just clueless, or purposely ignored the advances of more than half the female population. She honestly didn't know if she preferred the former, or the latter.

She was brought back to reality, when she felt the sand and dust flying past, as her hair whipped violently against her face with the harsh winds. They pummelled her petit frame, instantly forcing her to stand on a dune of support, but otherwise left her unaffected. She allowed her sights to travel upwards, letting her gaze rest momentarily upon the lonesome, crescent moon of Hueco Mundo. If she was honest, -which was rare these days-, she adored the ever-present midnight and endless desert of the hollow plain, compared to what Sereti had become.

Utilizing shunpo, she reached the ominous castle of what once was Las Noches in mere minutes, as she began her descent to the chambers below.

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><p>A single pair of footsteps echoed through the deserted hallway, the sound of wood sandals hitting stone reverberated endlessly though the darkness. Only the bare minimum of the torches were lit, as the crackling of the flame did little neither to banish the crawling shadows, nor to fill the void of silence, in-between each step. If one concentrated hard enough, they could hear faint scratching of fingernails against stone from the other sides of some of the doors, barricaded with metal and kido spells alike as well as chains clinking faintly from deep below the floor. It truly looked like a scene from a medieval dungeon. The thirteenth division captain fought to keep her head high and her face expressionless, trying her best to ignore what was happening on the other sides of the doors.<p>

Her captain's haori trailed in on the floor, behind as she continued, towards yet another spiralled staircase, descending further into the prison. Another pair of footsteps soon joined her own from below her feet, indicating that the warden was aware of her presence.

Good.

She needed the warden to open the only remaining gate to the living world, with as little confrontation as possible. She didn't hear the faint scraping following her every footstep, and the very quiet sound of a metal chain being dragged along by its owner. She began to descend down the stairs, unaware that a pair of chocolate brown orbs, narrowed into predatory slits carefully observed her every move.

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><p>Eventually, she reached the staircase ended, once again leading off into the dark with tiny dots of light indicating torches. Faintly, she could see the outline of the warden, walking towards her from the other end of the hall. The two pairs of footsteps slowly drew closer to each other, as dull gray clashed with equally defeated violet. The wardens long aqua hair that trailed down her back served as a beacon, easier to spot than the torches.<p>

"Nel." Her own voice sounded far away to her hears, as if her own voice was spoken in a different language. The adult form of the child she had once met in the desert plains- which now seemed like a lifetime ago, gave a slight nod for in indication and acceptance.

"I need you to open the gate." Rukia asked her voice flat and toneless, in such a distant manner, it sounded like the owner of the voice was far away. Nel nodded in acceptance, already having heard of the 13th squad's captain's mission.

Soon, the two began to walk at a slow pace, towards the end of the hallway, near where the machine lay.

Nel- now permanently in adult form, rarely spoke and was given the tortuous job of the prison warden. Many of the remaining prisoners looked up to her, because unlike the other wardens, she was kind to them, offering words of comfort and advice on the worst days.

It was almost 2 years ago, when the blue-haired arrancar accepted the role of the warden, and the Rukia first met her in her adult form, when she too was an inhabitant of the cell. The two quickly bonded, even in silence, Nel would come when she had time off, and simply sit next to the shorter girl, not bothering to offer a false sense of security.

Sometimes, the warden would get lucky and be able to steal some food, and then share it with the now, thirteenth division captain. Sometimes they would talk, mostly about the past and what they were going to do when they were free. Even though they both knew deep down, that the chance of making it out alive was slim indeed, neither would give voice to their fears, in the hope that they would never become reality.

The two walked side by side, as the gate began to act, sending static charges of electricity in the air, as well as beginning to form a portal. Both girls gripped one edge of the gate, before pouring their reitsu into the portal, as it began to take its proper shape. Minutes later, the once portal, had turned into something resembling a Senkamon. The gates began to open, as the raven-haired captain turned her head to the Warden, giving a silent nod of thanks, before walking through the portal without turning back. Chains began to clink as a figure made a break from the opening as well.

Nel didn't bother to stop the prisoner, as he disappeared along with the captain in a blur of red.


	3. A grain of Truth

**Author's Note: I'm lazy. Sorry for the lack of updates on well, everything**

**Anyway, this chapter may be a little OOC, but eh, everyone changes in 17 months. I just couldn't keep Isshin serious, the whole time, it just doesn't suit him.**

**Anyway, please enjoy and give me some feedback people!**

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><p>Ichigo slammed his fists on the dining room table, almost breaking it with the sheer force he used as a result of the combination of his worry, anxiety, frustration and anger. What in the hell did goat-face mean? 'Not able to contact Soul Society?' So for the last 17 months, while he wallowed in the pits of rejection and despair over the fact that no one 'bothered' to contact him, he finds out not only that there was a good chance they <em>couldn't, <em>but that others KNEW and didn't tell him? He was positively enraged, and was fairly sure if this was some sort of comic, steam would be blowing out of his ears. The nerve! How dare they make decisions for him! If he had known…, h-he could have started training earlier, and might have been able to save them…

No contact? That meant everyone he knew on the other side could be…. -No, he couldn't think like that. Right now, all his emotion bottled up from the past 17 months had reached their boiling point, and there was nothing he could do to stop the onslaught of words pouring from his mouth.

The eldest Kurosaki knew the look on his son's face. The younger's face was set in a tight grimace, his fists clenched with the nails digging into the flesh of his palm, small trickles of blood seeping down his forearms. His eyes had dilated, the previously amber hues appeared almost golden in quality because of the extreme rage and emotion the boy was feeling. He could clearly see the stance his son was set in, cornered like a wounded animal, prepared to lash out at the closest object. Isshin knew he would have to try defuse the bomb quickly, otherwise this would quickly turn into a verbal war, a serious fight- much unlike the two's previous quarrels.

"I can't believe you'd keep something like that from me…" he spat, in a deadly voice, as he dropped his head, the orange bangs now teasing his eyebrows concealed his eyes, that were undoubtedly narrowed into slits. He didn't bother shouting, keeping his voice low, but still sounding like he was vainly controlling thinly veiled fury.

The eldest gulped in worry, never having seen his son so positively furious in his life. It was now or never. He had to get the point across, and subdue him to a state where he would listen, because at this point, one wrong move and it would all be over. All the emotions his son had tried to bury in the last 17 months would break through the mask he always wore, and the elder wasn't entirely sure if he'd be able to handle it.

"It wasn't just me; it was decided as a group, Ichigo." The eldest Kurosaki spoke in a relatively calm voice, in a futile attempt to pacify the beast raging just below the surface.

Unfortunately, his comment seemed to enrage the boy further as his lips twisted into a silent snarl.

"Who the hell is in this so-called group?" Ichigo snarled, his fury growing with each passing excuse. Isshin mentally prepared himself for the explanation, already fearing his son's reaction. If the answer set him off, there would be nothing the elder could do, and he might as well toss all hopes of pacifying the boy out the window.

"… The only people who know- myself included-, are Yourichi, Sado, Inoue-san, Ishida-san, Kiskue, and now you." The elder soundlessly cringed at his son's reaction. The boy was now positively enraged, his eyes almost seemed to glow in the twilight, while the eldest mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of emotions, about to be released.

"Ishida, Chad and Inoue were in on it too? What the fuck! Who gave everyone the right to make decisions for me!" he growled, his voice no longer quiet as its volume was slowly rising with each word he bit out.

"They were just trying to protect you" Isshin attempted to reason, already knowing it was a futile effort. Ichigo was absolutely livid, and Isshin was sure nothing would work until he vented some of the pent up emotions he kept within for the past 17 months. The elder's own patience was diminishing, and his temper rising, as he could only pray his only son didn't say something that would make him lose control of his own frustration.

"'It's not their decision, or yours! It's MY life, you can't just go ahead and not tell me something like THAT, because you're 'protecting' me, and expect me to just accept it! Did anyone stop to think about how it felt for me?" Ichigo roared, his previous prohibitions of keeping his voice to a reasonable level forgotten. All he could feel was the pure undiluted anger of the past 17 months coursing through his veins.

The elders face twisted slightly into a pained grimace, the only visible sign of discomfort from Ichigo's words, while on the inside; he was steadily losing the reign over his own temper.

_Stop pushing Ichigo; you're going to get answers that you don't want. _The eldest silently begged.

"Stop it Ichigo, it wasn't our intention to ignore how you felt!" the elder commanded, his voice rising with every word. This was going too far. Too much more and he wouldn't be able to control his own words…or actions.

"Bullshit, you all went ahead and chose what you thought was best for me without taking ME into consideration!" The orange haired boy spat, his lips curled into a snarl, fists clenched to tightly that there were crescent shape wounds imbedded into his palm.

"We didn't want you to shoulder the burden! Can't you see? If we had told you earlier, you know what you would have done? You would have just gone and tried to regain your powe-" Isshin tried fruitlessly to explain to his only son, his own voice now yelling in chorus with Ichigo's.

"Of course I would have! I wouldn't just stand around and watch my friends suffer like some piece of scum! Like you said, we have no idea what's happening there! They could all be hurt, injured or even dea-"

"I KNOW!"

"And another thin-…wait wha..?" His father's worlds ran through his mind once more, as multiple emotions ran past his face. First was the recognition, then all the blood that had rushed to his head from his previous shouting match slowly drained away, leaving him looking pale, and simply vulnerable.

"Don't you think I fought for your opinion in that decision? I KNOW you think like that son, because I do too! Stop being so selfish!" The eldest Kurosaki roared, his own temper now off the handle, his fury matching his son's earlier rage. All his previous attempts to calm it had flown out the window.

"S-selfish?..w-what the hell are you saying?" Ichigo, tried to defend, his eyes wide, as he gaped slightly at his father's accusation. He wasn't selfish! He never fought for himself, only those around him. Not once did he ask anything in return! How was that selfish?

"For the last two years, we've all watched you! Watched you wallow in self-pity, with that god damn broken look on your face, even if you try to hide it by masking it. Do you know how it felt, to WATCH you, know why you were acting that way, and know a way to fix it, but not be able to tell you!"

His father's words struck a chord in him, as he froze instantly. He was right….. They were all hurting too. All the downcast looks that Karin spared, all the tears Yuzu shed, all the tension wafting around the house like a thick cloud suddenly made perfect sense…. They were close to her too. They were hurting just as much as he was….and he didn't even notice….

"D-dad…. I-"

"Don't bother. This is serious, Ichigo." All traces of his previous anger evaporated from his voice. Ichigo could hear it much more clearly now. His father's tone was flat, there was no accusation, only simple stating of facts. He could hear the exhaustion that laced his old man's voice. Even though he never acted like it, Ichigo could tell his father was tiered. Tired from lying to his son, tired from worrying about Soul Society, for the time he himself had remained in ignorant bliss.

Ichigo let out a deep sigh, before bowing his head and murmuring quietly.

Isshin raised an eyebrow, not only because of the low volume of his son's voice, but because of what he thought he had just whispered.

"What did you just say?" Isshin asked skeptically, an eyebrow raised at the orange haired teen.

"I said….I'm sorry." Ichigo mumbled, still barely audible but his father caught the words, before a wide smile spread across his lips.

"It's okay, lets head down to Urahara's to see if we can do anything about connecting to Soul Society, now that you've got your powers back." Isshin instructed, standing slowly before heading towards the front door.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, and decided to comment over the seeming eagerness in his voice.

"Why are you so keen to send me back there, Goat-chin?" He asked; weary of the answer as suspicion laced his tone.

"So you can bring my third daughter back to me of course! I assume she was pregnant with my grandchildren when she left, yes?" Isshin ending up shouting the end of his sentence, as Ichigo horridly socked him in the jaw, while trying to contain the raging blush spreading across his face, resulting in him looking much more like his name.

Ichigo was about to send another punch his father's way, before a hauntingly familiar sprirtual pressure surfaced in the skies of Karakura, as his head snapped to the direction he felt it from, as he instantly set off running towards it.

* * *

><p><em>Rukia!<em>

* * *

><p>Kuchiki Rukia was by no means a selfish person.<p>

Even in her days in Rukongai, she had always held others above herself, giving her food away for the starving children even though she was just as hungry, even taking beatings for those who physically couldn't hand another confrontation. When she became a shinigami, and even when she was adopted into the noble Clan of Kuchiki, the belief that her own welfare came after those around her held strong. The innocent souls she was protecting, and the helpless bystander's safety, were much, much more important than her own.

It was moments like these, that made her seriously rethink her lives choices, seeing as even standing on the edge of the world of the living, tasting the sweet euphoria that is _freedom_ for even a second, suddenly seemed incredibly selfish.

How long had it been since she had seen a sky that was neither jet-black, nor blood-red?

How long had it been since the warm rays of the sun had caressed her cheek?

She…she didn't deserve this 'freedom'.

This made her loathing for the man who called himself 'god' multiply. Not because he had robbed her of the few other things she held precious; her friends, her morals, her chastity, hell, even her own soul! No. It was because he had stolen something she didn't even know you could lose. He stole the notion of 'home'. Even if one is bound by chains in a cell, they can still pride themselves in knowing that, that dank, horrid cell is not their home. Not the place they felt comfortable in. Somehow, in the time she was gone, the world of the living ceased to bring the comfort, and warm feeling to her heart it used to bring. No. It was simply The world of the living now. To her, the pale blue skies were wrong. Somewhere along the line, the crimson skies of Soul Society had replaced the pale blue ones from her memories. Somewhere along the line.. the new 'Soul Society' had become her home.

Even standing here, bathing in the warm glow of the sunlight high above the streets of a place she once called home, it still felt like there were iron chains wrapped around her wrists, preventing her from feeling like she was 'home', along with whispering voices calling out, telling her '_you don't belong here'._

She took a shuddering step forward, reinforcing her shaking resolve to do this. If she didn't, then who would? Ichimaru-sotaicho would no doubt send somebody stronger, and more capable, who would definitely slaughter Ichigo with no remorse. She had to do this. She had to remove his spirit energy, everything he had managed to regain….otherwise….otherwise, 'god' might decide that the world of the living would be an appropriate place to dominate next. And if that happened….then everything. Everything she had sacrificed -, including her own soul and sanity-, would be for naught.

She allowed her eyes to close softly as she felt two distinct reitsu approach from either side. She let her defenses to slide, allowing the malevolent, dark corner of her mind to run rampant, as she pulled the hollow mask down over her face…

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry. Ichigo.<em>


End file.
